


garden of thorns

by uchihakind



Category: Hyouka & Kotenbu Series
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Self-Harm, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21844468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uchihakind/pseuds/uchihakind
Summary: even budding flowers can yield the most bitter of fruits
Relationships: Oreki Houtarou/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. these petals don't grow gently

**Author's Note:**

> bitch i be sad fuck it we ball. also i wrote this to the Koe no Katachi soundtrack and fucking cried.  
> also i do not own you, hyouka, chitanda eru, satoshi fukube, or houtarou oreki,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reworked this and did some editing on chapter one. It's been a long time since I originally posted this work, so hopefully my new writing skills have improved it

Flowers, a plant you never gave much attention to when you were younger, were now pouring from your mouth and clogging your throat. It burned, and the smell of the intoxicating perfume and the stomach acid combined made you feel even more sick than your broken heart did. You clutched your stomach with one hand, your other one clamping over your mouth in attempt to silence your loud gagging in the empty school bathroom. You sputtered and coughed, leaving not much air left in your lungs, blood spraying onto your hand as you did so.

Bringing yourself to a swaying stand, you lean over and flush the toilet that contained your botanical illness. Wiping the blood from your mouth with the back of your hand, you exit the stall and steer yourself towards a sink, and begin rinsing the residue from your pale hands. You didn't want people to see how pathetic you had become just from a rejection you hadn't even confirmed yet, but the blood had already spattered and stained onto your white school shoes. Sighing, you turn out of the bathroom and head back into the class you had previously rushed out of.

  
Houtarou Oreki was the most handsome boy you had ever laid eyes on. His sparkling, yet disinterested, green eyes were ones you could, and have, gotten lost in. The chocolatey brown hair that cascaded down his face was elegant, and fitting for his pale and attractive features. He sat across from you, one seat in front so you could perfectly see the right side of his face, and how he kept his head propped up on that tiring hand of his. He never spoke often, only when he had to, and always paid attention in class, whether it looked like he was or not. At first, you thought nothing of him, assuming he'd be a background character in your life, but the more you looked in front of you, the more you found yourself ogling at his beautiful face. It was all fun and games, however, until he turned his head and caught you staring at him. On that day, you froze and continued just staring, it isn't like he'd do anything about it anyway. He returned the favor with a disinterested stare and slowly craned his head back into its original position. From there forth, your interest in him grew.

You never knew that it would grow into such a fatal attraction. The more you watched Fukube and Chitanda be friendly with him, the more you pushed yourself back. From the day your eyes met, you had spoken very little, but small smiles in class and in the halls were enough to make sure your friendship was mutual.

You watched him and the purple eyed girl grow close, leaving after class to adventure who knows where, and being off with themselves. You couldn't be jealous, it isn't like you had made an effort to annoy him like Chitanda did, but you couldn't help but feel that nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach. If there was one thing you didn't want to do, it was bother the boy who made it clear that was his number one pet peeve. Somehow though, Chitanda's actions toward him made it seem like it only enticed him more.

Maybe if you hadn't been afraid of rejection you wouldn't have been hacking up mountain laurels each time you entered class with him, but it isn't like you could go back and change your past cowardice now.

  
Entering the class, you shyly wave your hand up to signal you're okay, and your teacher asks if you need to go to the nurse. You reply with a kind "No, I'm alright," and return to your seat, passing Oreki on the way.

You shuffle into your seat and pull out your notebook and begin writing the content presented on the board. Students stare at you, the blood on your shoes standing out on the stark white contrast of the material, but you pay no mind to it and continue diligently working on your notes.

Minutes pass and the lecture starts up again, pulling you back into your regular school concentration ritual. Muffling a cough every now and then still has your classmates concerned, but you continue to work and try to ignore the growing lump in your throat. Small tears fill your eyes as you struggle internally, and you know its getting worse by the way Oreki has finally turned to give you a look of concern, something he never does.

You catch his eye and smile weakly, but his off-put look breaks you down and you jerk, hacking up a few beautiful petals as you frantically try to cover your mouth. Your teacher rushes over to your struggling form while Oreki watches you with worry like everyone else in the class, and the older man helps you out of the room. He opens the door, and barks an order demanding that someone accompany you to the nurses' office.

Oreki is pushed out the door, and stands next to your doubled over form as you continue to cough and struggle for air. He places his hand on your back, and rubs it along the upper area, hoping to somewhat calm your breathing.

He hates this.

He doesn't know how to deal with something like this, nor did he want to miss class for something he didn't even know how to fix. Sure he was worried, he considered you a friend, but the magnitude of the situation didn't hit him until he noticed the full, blood spattered flowers falling to the floor, thick red liquid dripping from your mouth.

He picks up your arm and wraps it over his shoulder, hoping to provide you support, and that notifies you to start walking. As you make your way down the hall, the two of you stay silent, with only the occasional throat clear to shift the empty hall's silence. How ironic was it that the root cause of your pain was walking you to the nurse's office to ease your discomfort? Not much could be done about the disease you had been cursed with, but it was still nice that he even cared enough to stay with you as the nurse inspected your injuries and checked your breathing.

The nurse looked up after hooking her stethoscope back around her neck and gave you a sad smile. She offered you a cup of water and a few lozenges to soothe your throat, and recommended that she call your parents to inform them of your condition. You accepted that you couldn't hide it for any longer due to its progression, and reluctantly allowed the nurse to tell your parents of the situation.

Oreki stood there awkwardly, so you tell him that it'd be okay for him to leave if he wanted to, but he objected, claiming that "there are only ten minutes left in class." You smile to yourself, and scoot over on the nurse bench, and pat it to signal you want him to sit. Pushing himself from the lean he had on the wall, he sauntered over to your weak form and placed himself next to you. Throwing caution to the wind, you rest your head on the taller boy's shoulder.

"You know I'm going to die right," you whisper to him. You feel the boy tense at your morbid statement, but he still says nothing, so you continue.

"There are so many of these fucking flowers in my lungs that I can't even sleep without nearly suffocating to death," you choke out, slowly losing your composure.

You rest your forehead on his shoulder know, tears silently cascading down your face and dropping onto his black uniform. You know he's probably annoyed and feels like he's wasting his time, but if you get to spend this time with him now, you'll take what you can get.

He moves his head to look at your trembling form rested on his shoulder, and he takes your right hand, still saying nothing. He feels as though he can't offer any input, after all he's never researched the disease, nor witnessed it with his own eyes. He feels saddened, and a little disappointed in himself for not realizing that something had been seriously wrong with you sooner. He knows it isn't his job, nor is it his business what goes on in your life, but ever since Fukube and Chitanda opened him up more, he felt that as a friend he should care. He lets you cry onto his shoulder, unable to move, and holds your cold hand in his warm ones. Oreki knows what the flower vomit disease means, and it isn't anything good. The most he can do is offer you support until it gets sorted out.

You'd never ask him about Chitanda. It'd be far too obvious on your part that your love for him is literally killing you. Though, you could ask, and mask it as an innocent question, but you weren't ever really close like that. However, after that day you shared in the nurses office, Oreki had given you his number and told you to text him whenever the flower disease crippled you further. Informing him would allow him to be prepared for any nurse trips, therefore he wouldn't miss much in class as he'd complete it beforehand on days you were having trouble.

However, you ended up biting the bullet and texting him about his purple eyed companion. Oreki didn't expect to get a text from you on a Saturday afternoon, but he decided to read it anyway; its not like he had anything better to do than watch T.V on his couch.

[ミ✿Flower Kid]  
"What do you and Chitanda do when school ends?"  
4:08 PM

  
[ M E ]  
"Solve mysteries."  
4:14 PM

  
Of course he'd give you a short answer such as that. You huff, not knowing how to respond. Though you're smiling, you know talking to him will probably increase the flowers in your lungs. Hell, you can already feel the petals crawling up your throat, desperate to tear from the confines of your esophagus. Avoiding the awkward question, you decided to inform the boy on your medical status.

[ミ✿Flower Kid]

  
"The doctors say I probably won't have long unless I undergo surgery,"

"Though my feelings will be removed along with the disease."

"And I dont think I want that, Houtarou."  
4:18 PM

Oreki reads the three texts you sent him with wide eyes. He's no longer sprawled out on his couch, and is hunched over his phone in concern. He knew that this disease meant life or death, but it slipped his mind so often that whenever you mentioned it, it felt like he'd been hit with a ton of bricks. His gut felt heavy, and he yet again didn't know how to reply. It was such a crude thing, watching his friend die from something as simple as unrequited love. He didn't even know who shattered your heart like that, but he knew for a fact that you would literally rather be dead than to stop loving the person you had fallen ill for.

Despite your illness being worse in Oreki's presence, you found that ever since he replied with "Solving mysteries," your coughing had been at ease. The disease had developed prematurely, under an assumption that he was dating someone else, but you literally could not help, nor change what your body put you through.

You began to speak with him regularly, even though he seemed disinterested as always, you knew that was just his natural demeanor. He obviously cared for you, maybe not as much as he did for Chitanda, but it was enough to keep you happy.

He'd help you when you asked, and part of you believed it was out of guilt for your deteriorating body, but a sliver of you so desperately held onto the idea that he cared way more for you than you thought. Your mind, however, had been drifting to thoughts that threatened to come out in the form of bloody kalmias. Your fantasies would be the death of you, and the thoughts what you could never have threatened to claim your life.

More and more often you found yourself thinking about. Cuddling, hugging and loving Oreki. You loved him, that much was known. You'd do anything for him, and his presence alone brought peace to your mind, though you couldn't say much for your lungs.

Your attendance rates were dropping, and you found yourself staying at home alone more and more often. Your grades were failing just as bad as your body was, and you couldn't focus in class without thinking about him. Every day was filled with tears, vomit, blood, and those stupid petals that not-so-elegantly sat at the surface of the toilet water. Part of you wanted to end it where you laid on the bathroom floor of your house, but death meant acceptance, and your flowers stood for perseverance. Half of you begged to relieve yourself of the struggle, but the other half wanted to keep fighting for Oreki's love.

Sitting up, and wrapping your blanket around your thinning form, you reach over onto the bathroom counter for your phone. You contemplate texting Oreki how you feel, whether it be about how much you want to fucking kill yourself, or how much you feel for the boy, but you decide against it. You settle for stumbling into your bedroom and reaching for a razor blade to relieve the tension in your mind with physical pain.

If tearing up your throat wasn't enough, this would do the trick, you think.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly slash the blade against the inner side of your arm, deep enough to bleed, but shallow enough to heal okay. You do it more, slicing quick cuts down your thinning arm. Some are deeper than others, and you can clearly see the gummy inner flesh of your arm that spills warm, red liquid.

You grunt in pain, quickly grasping a rag to apply pressure to the fresh and rapidly bleeding wounds. Slumping against the wall, tears spring to your eyes and smother your face in hot droplets. You cry out, whether it be from the constant pain or how sorry you're feeling for yourself. With your mind boggled, you slowly get up to wrap the cuts, but instead of reaching for gauze you reach for the phone you had placed on the floor.

Foolishly, you called Oreki's number, him taking a bit to answer. Your cries and gasps for air are clear on his end, and he stops. He knows something is wrong, because you've never called him like this before, but he has no time to think. Frantically, he asks if you're alright, and where you are incase you aren't okay. Calming your breathing to a slow hiccup, you answer him shakily, and rush out what you had just done. You wait on your end of the line for his response, and he asks if he needs to call an ambulance. You rapidly decline, but you do ask him to visit you. Mentally slapping yourself, you shake yourself out of your trembling stupor, but you don't revoke your request and instead breathe out a desperate "please." He takes a minute, but he agrees and tells you he needs to do something before he head out. Thanking him, you end the call, sigh and wrap up your messy wound.

[ミ✿Flower Kid]  
"I live about 15 minutes out from you, Houtarou"

  
2:13 PM

  
[ Oreki ]  
"I only just left school, I'll be there soon. Send me your address."

  
2:13 PM

  
[ミ✿Flower Kid]  
" - Your Destination Is Here - "

" Please be safe. Thank you Houtarou, you don't have to do this"

  
2:14 PM

He doesn't respond, but you know he means well.

You change out of your sweaty clothes, and into shorts and a hoodie for comfort, your sleeves covering the nasty gashes you had just given yourself.

Only a few minutes pass before you heard a short knock on your front door. Huffing in a deep breath of air, you swing it open and your eyes meet beautiful green ones. He's standing there in all his glory, right in front of you. He waits for you to invite him in, and you do, taking him in your arms and not hesitating to rest your head on his shoulder. He smells like fresh laundry and sandalwood, you note.

Not knowing what to do with his arms, he simply loops them around your waist so as to not get in the way of your position around him. Its a foreign feeling to him, he hasn't done this with his other friends, but he supposes it's kind of nice.

He relaxes, and allows you to melt into his body, simply standing there as support for you. When you finish indulging in him, you take a step back, but avert his kelly green gaze. Your face is adorned with a deep blush, and your throat is itching for the release of a cough, but your force it down and begin to speak.

"Look I-I'm sorry if I scared you, you really didn't have to come all this way for me ."

"I came because I wanted to."

"I know we aren't all that close and you have mysteries to solve but-!" You stop. Did you hear him right? Houtarou Oreki wanted to come visit and be with you? You don't know what to say to that, but he breaks the silence for you.

"Who knows when we'll be able to see each other again, anyways."

This statement stops you once more, but you know its true. Whether it means he's going to be busy, or you'll die soon enough before your next visit, you know time isn't on your side. Despite the saddening tone of his voice, you smile. You're just grateful you get to spend more time with him. The two of you had almost always been silent with one another, but you liked it that way.

Even though you itched to know more about Oreki besides what you had already learned and loved about him, you found that the silence between you two was comforting. Not wasting another minute, you drag him to the couch and let him sit down. You offer him tea as you'd be making some yourself to soothe your throat, and he obliges and thanks you for the offer. While you make the soothing tea in your small kitchen, you yell to Oreki that he can turn the T.V on and put anything he wants to see.

You hum to yourself, enjoying the company you have, getting giddy at the idea of it possibly being like this more often. When your teas finish, you bring them out to the living room and set them on the table. Oreki is cuddled into his periwinkle sweater, already comfortable under one of your favorite blankets. You sit down, scooting the cups along with your movements and sit close to him. He knows you're naturally cold, but with all this blood loss lately, you feel like ice. He could feel your temperature through your blanket during the hug you shared, and he was concerned to say the least.

He reaches for one of the steaming cups, once again thanking you for your kindness and sipping from it. The two of you enjoy the other's silence as you watch the show he put on. Time passes, and Oreki contemplates asking you what made you do what you did to yourself, but he decides against it as the answer is pretty obvious. Despite your blubbering on the phone call, he was sure even you didn't understand your own actions, but it didn't matter to him now, so long as you were safe. He wasn't even sure if he could call his feeling for you concern anymore. Was he really falling for you?


	2. hills of radiant winds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the title is in reference to Nier Replicant. Sorry for the inactivty, im back full swing bitches

Night was growing closer, but Oreki stayed by your side. He silently offered his support to you, and made small moves to keep your weakening body warm. It was a foreign feeling to him; he never got this close to people, but the ache in his chest told him he needed to be by your side. He didn't know who it was that put you through this ailment, but he swore to himself he would be with you every step of the way. The daily mysteries could wait, your life and time with him was more important than some silly after-school activity he partook in. 

"My parents aren't going to be home tonight, I don't think. You're welcome to stay...I-if you want!" you mentally face palm at the implications. However, he pays no mind to it and nods in agreement. You smile to yourself a bit, but the grim reality of your life still looms over you head. It was weird. He never stayed around you this long, and you wonder if it was pity. Your throat itches a bit, and you hope you have more time left. Maybe he would return your feelings and this would be all over. A ticking time bomb is what you were, but you'd savor these fleeting moments with him as much as you could. Part of you wondered if the time you spent with him was slowly killing him as well. You'd eventually have to leave him, leave the living realm. Would he hurt? Would he cry for you? You guessed you would never know, and filed that thought away with a huff. At that he slightly turns his head toward the fluffy mound of hair on your head, but you pay him no attention. He stares at your smaller form, it would almost be cute if you weren't practically dying in his arms as you two sat in each other's embrace. The hold you had around his middle was light, but enough to keep him close. The butterflies in your stomach refused to settle, but were fluttering around at a calmer pace than they were when you had initially embraced him. His left arm was slung around your shoulder, his right hand grasping the mug of tea he had retrieved earlier. Your head was on his chest, a few inches below his chin, with a blanket swaddling you and another spread among the both of you. He was warm, and, most importantly, cozy. He wasn't very cuddly, but he allowed you to cling to him, your smaller fingers clutching at the light colored sweater he wore. You didn't want to let him go, he was finally in your presence and he was letting you be close to him. You breathe into him heavy, and sigh in content at the moment and how good he smells. He makes no issue of it, and instead moves his left hand to twirl your hair in his fingers. Uncharacteristic of him to do so, he thinks, but he remembers hair touching and petting being something calming to him. He twists the piece in his hand, and then moves to lightly run his nails through you hair. You're practically purring at this, but he doesn't stop his ministrations. You sink into his comfort, content with his gentle treatment of your body. However, it comes to an abrupt end when a rough cough tears through your throat. His hand dangles above your head, and your right arm moves to cover your mouth. You make a move to get up, wobbling slightly, and Houtarou rushes to aid you. Your coughing turns to hacking, and your legs give out from under you, effectively crumpling you to the floor while dragging Houtarou with you. 

"[Y/N]! A-are you okay?!" he exclaims to you. Blood is beginning to splatter your hands, smaller petals pushing themselves out of your mouth. Tears start to cascade down your face amidst your struggle to breathe. You're hyperventilating at this point, and Houtarou is practically running to get you a cup of water to down. He quickly returns, thrusting the glass at you, but he decides to set it down on the coffee table until you're stable enough to consume it. He kneels and rubs your back in that comforting way he did back at school, and you begin to calm down at his touch. You sputter apologies to him, your shoulders shaking and your fingers trembling, speckled with blood. He pats your back and whispers an "its okay" to you.

"Lets go wash up, yeah?" 

You nod

-

Though you felt the night had been ruined, Houtarou continued to be gentle and respectful to you. He stayed with you in the bathroom as you scrubbed your hands of your blood, and stared at you with worry. The light in your eyes had severely dulled, but he didn't say anything so as not to upset you further. After feebly drying your hands, you lead him out of the bathroom and down the hall towards your room. You sheepishly open the door, and show him where the two of you would be sleeping tonight. Your sheets are haphazardly strewn about your bed, but your room is clean and organized for the most part. Posters from your favorite anime and T.V shows are plastered all over your walls, and your desk is decorated with cute themed stationary and a desk lamp. You inwardly cringe at the nerdy appearance of your room, but you're also happy that Houtarou gets to inspect the side of your personality you never really talk about. He looks about the room, taking in the details of the things you like and how your sleeping habitat appears. 

"I um...I have a futon to sleep on, um, you can take the bed if you want."

"[Y/N], this is your room...."

"You're the guest, Houtarou!"

He sighs. "You're sick. You need to get proper rest. Sleeping on the floor will not help your lungs."

You mull it over for a bit, and nod. He's right, and you didn't want to trouble him any further by arguing with him about your sleeping arrangements. You quickly straighten out your bed sheets, and then move to your closet to retrieve the futon, blankets and a pillow for him. You lay it all out, tossing the pillow onto the soft mound, and stand there. Are you forgetting something...?

"...Oh!"

He looks at you curiously.

"Ah, I- Um....Do you want comfy clothes to change into? I have some from my brother that will probably fit you."

His eyes widen at that, he wasn't even thinking about changing clothes. 

"Different pants are fine. I like this sweater," he responds indifferently. 

You nod, rushing to the abandoned room your older brother left behind for college. You dig through his drawers, and find a pair of black sweat pants that should fit your friend well enough. Grabbing them, you make your way back to your room and thrust them towards Houtarou. The two of you stand awkwardly before it hits you that you should turn around so he can change. You're so awkward. You plop face down on your bed and stare at the wall while you listen to Houtarou change. He neatly folds his school pants and sets them on top of your dresser and taps you to let you know everything is alright. Turning over from your original position, you scoot back against the headboard and pat the spot next to you to signal that you want him to sit next to you. He silently moves to sit next to your smaller form, but wriggles a bit in an attempt to get comfortable.

"Thank you. For being here for me. 'M sorry if I troubled you," you lament.

"I-i know you're probably busy and would rather not deal with my messy issues, but I was scared, and I didn't know what to do," you continue, "I just really appreciate you being here is all." 

"You worry me a lot," he states, "But I'm here for you."

You nod in understanding, and sniffle as you press your face into his forearm. You're tired, like, really tired. He does nothing to stop your actions though, and simply allows you to take comfort in him.

"Will you come to school tomorrow? Our classmates won't stop bothering me about you." He tugs at his hair as he says that, and you think about it.

"What if I get ill again?"

"Then I'll take you home."

"I don't wan't to be a burden to you."

"If you were a burden I wouldn't have bothered asking." 

"...I'll...I will try. But I can't guarantee I won't barf up flowers and blood in the middle of a lesson," you half-heartedly joke.

The corners of his mouth quirk up at that, but you pay no mind to it. Its bittersweet, this current arrangement. The boy you love is sitting with you in your bed, comforting you through a deadly diseased caused by the seemingly unrequited onslaught of feelings you have for him. He'll be here for you until your time runs up, and if that's the case, you'll take what you can get. Shyly, you move your hand towards one of his own and hold the tips of his fingers. Shortly thereafter, however, he moves his hand to link his fingers with your own. You sit in silence against him, his breathing lulling you to sleep. With his free hand, he fishes his phone out from his pant's pocket and sets an alarm for school tomorrow. He doesn't want to move from your sleeping form, it'd be a waste of energy for him and it'd probably wake you up due to the loss of his warmth. He settles on slowly shifting the two of you down onto your pillows, and he lays there. He looks at your peaceful form. No coughing, no tears and no suffering is evident on your face. He sighs a bit, and kisses you on the forehead.

"Goodnight," he breathes into the air.

-

The blaring of Houtarou's phone alarm ripped you from your peaceful sleep. Your eyes flash open, sticky with sleep and droopy with exhaustion from yesterdays events. You're cuddled into your blankets, and it took you too long to realize that you were warm because of body you were intertwined with. Your hands were still holding one another, and Houtarou's arm had been thrown across your body, hand resting near your shoulder blades. His eyes are open, he's groggy, but awake. You look at each other as he makes no move to turn off that annoying alarm, and you close your eyes and cuddle in closer to him, accepting whatever "this" is.

"We have to get ready, [Y/N]."

"Mmnnhhh..."

"Come on."

"Such a buzzkill, Oreki-kun," you groan out. 

"..."

He starts moving, first by pulling his arms to himself and removing his hand from your own. You whine at the loss of the heat radiating from his body, but you should be getting up nonetheless. He sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning. He stretches, and then makes his way out of your cozy duvet. Now standing, he scratches his back, picks up his school pants, and exits the room, presumably to allow the both of you to change. You sigh, knowing he's not going to come back in and will probably be waiting out there for you. You reluctantly take off your casual wear and begin putting your school uniform on. 

"Ow!" you yelp. Ah, thats right, the cut on your arm. Your eyes water at the pain from it. Stupid stupid stupid. It was healing okay, it looked nasty, and would probably take a while to completely scar over. You needed to change the dressing on it. You finish pulling on your clothes except for the long sleeve blazer, and make your way towards the bathroom. You knock to ensure Houtarou isn't in there, and then quickly move in to take care of your injury. You finish with a wince, and bustle out towards the living room. Houtarou isn't on the couch, but rather in the kitchen. He sports two cereal bars, and makes his way over to you to give you one. Additionally, he drops a couple cough-drops into your palm as he makes haste towards your front door. Rushing with him, you quickly throw on your shoes, snatch your bag and keys up, then lock the door behind you as you dash out with him.

"Slow down Oreki, you know I'm ill!"

"I do not wish to be late."

Sigh.

The two of you make your way towards the train station that you'd normally take to school, Houtarou only slightly slowing down in his journey towards school. The station is bustling with people, but you manage to make it onto the train without any issues. Its filled with students from all over, Houtarou looming over your form in a seemingly protective kind of way. He does't say anything, but he attempts to shield you from anything that may trigger a coughing it. As your train comes to your stop, his hand encircle your wrist and he drags you out of the train car. Neither of you say anything, instead you allow him to lead you into the school even though people are beaming lasers into your skull. You make it to home room with several minutes to spare, so you decide to eat the breakfast bar the boy had given to you about half an hour earlier. You happily munch on it, thinking of your time with him, not even noticing the amount of classmates staring at you. You guessed that being absent for several days and weeks at a time could be pretty concerning. You were in and out of the hospital after your Hanahaki's Disease diagnosis, it would switch between rapid and slow progression, so documenting the state of your ailment was damn near impossible. It didn't matter though, you had Houtarou. Maybe not romantically, but he was there for you and god forbid you ever let him know that he is the root cause of your pain.

The whole day you were in your own head space. Attending school was good for you, yes, but there were so many things running through your head. You wondered if Houtarou actually did like you. He wouldn't let just anyone be that close to him, right? He wouldn't sleep in the same bed as you if he only saw you as a friend? Maybe it was pity, maybe it was how he treated all of his friends. The thought of him sharing a bed with Chitanda made your stomach lurch, and your lungs decided it would be the perfect time to flare up. You cough inwardly, trying to avoid drawing attention to yourself, but it was futile. You barely managed to excuse yourself for water, but at least now you were in an open empty hall to catch a breather. It was nearly the end of the day, all you had was the rest of this class and you could go back home. You don't remember dragging your feet back into class, but time moved like lightning and by the next time you blinked, the bell to go home was blaring in your ears. You exit your class and travel down the hall, but a certain set of voices catches your ear.

"Come on, come explore with us!" Chitanda poked at Houtarou.

"Yeah, yeah let's go, you totally missed out yesterday," Satoshi accused.

"I can't. I have priorities. Excuse me," Houtarou pushed passed the two of his friends and out of the class. He noticed you at the bulletin board near his class, and casually walked over to you.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Go...? Go where?"

"To your house? I am the one taking care of you, am I not?"

You flush at that, and you notice Satoshi and Chitanda's faces poke out from the classroom door.  
You nod sheepishly, and the boy shamelessly takes your hand in his to lead the two of you out of school. Unbeknownst to the two of you, his friends sneakily trail behind you as you make your way to the exit. Houtarou wears an apathetic face, but he is painfully aware of the dull burn in his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he holds your hand in his own. You have a small smile, and he takes it, as its probably rare for you amongst all the emotional and physical pain you endure. His chest tightens at the thought of losing you, but he pays the thought no mind. 

Chitanda and Satoshi don't leave the building as the two of you depart, but as soon as you're out of earshot, they're full blown conspiracy theorists. 

"Houtarou has a SIGNIFICANT OTHER?!" Satoshi exclaims.

Chitanda is silent. Houtarou was supposed to be hers. She was so sure he liked her back, but now that he was all close and personal with some mystery person, she wasn't so confident in her judgement anymore. Satoshi takes the hint of her silence, and purses his lips. 

"Well...We can explore without them. Lets go," he encourages.

Chitanda watches from the door as the two of you leave her sight. She sees how you look at Houtarou with blinding love, so much so that anyone could see it, but she doubted Houtarou himself would notice or even entertain the thought. She sighs, but plasters a smile on her face, and decides she should spend time with Satoshi again anyway.


	3. [P]: Deadly [P]etals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> read Blood Bank. Its so. so GOOD. please. dear god.

He didn't want to return to your house just yet. He wanted to savor this time with you, so he tugged on your hand and led you away from the train station. Quickly trailing behind him, you fail to notice his abrupt stop, and promptly run straight into him. You step back and rub your nose from the impact, and turn to look at the cafe he led you to.

"Oreki, its cold out here, can we please go in?"

His eyes snap to you, and he quickly nods, then opening the door to the small cafe. He leads you to the back corner seat near the window. You sit down across from him.

"What are we doing here?"

"I want you to enjoy life. You know, cause..." he trails off.

"Oh! Okay, thanks," you beam at him. It's warm in here, but cool enough to be comfortable. The dull throb in your arm is there, but you ignore it and look at Houtarou. His head is turned, and he's staring out the window, clearly thinking about something. The air is a bit awkward, the aloof boy clearly did this on a whim. You appreciate it, even if it feels like it was out of pity. 

A waitress comes over to take your order, and she politely asks what the two of you will have today. Houtarou requests his usual, and you ask for a chai latte and a surprise pastry. The waitress nods, and delivers your order to the people behind the counter. As you wait, you attempt to make small convo with the chocolate haired boy who led you here.

"So..."

"So"

"...Hi," you say shyly. 

He lifts a hand up to wave in response. A beat passes, and your mind is running through all the scenarios and questions that have been torturing your mind. Stop thinking about it! Just enjoy whats happening right now, even if it is killing you.

"Why are you doing this?" you blurt out, immediately covering your mouth. That wasn't supposed to happen. Houtarou's eyes shine beautifully in the window light as he looks at you.

"I...I don't know. Honestly." he answers. He didn't know? 

"I just. I guess I want to see you enjoy your life. After seeing you like that at your house..." he doesn't finish. 

Ah. He wanted to make you happy?

You cough a bit. It was more like a throat clear, but the tickling in your esophagus was difficult to ignore. It becomes more difficult, the coughing becoming ragged in your throat. Luckily the waiter is quick to bring you your drink. You cautiously drink it, the heat soothing the tender flesh of your throat. You breathe heavily, regaining control of the ability to take in air through your nose. Houtarou lazily sips his drink, two hands cradling his cup. His fingers are tinged red at the tips, and his nose is pink. He really is gorgeous. He's prettier than the girls you see at school, and you're lucky you even get to be close to him. You know so many people like him, with your biggest competitor being Chitanda Eru, but could it even be competition if he was simply taking care of you? He probably had someone he was interested in, and you were just a case he picked up along the way. Maybe he liked being around you because of your mystery of a disease. 

Oh...That made sense. It was probably because he wanted to know who. He wanted to know why. That had to be the only reason why he'd ever get close to you right? It was laughable, to say the least. Your lungs burned, and your throat was itchy. This was too much. Should you tell him? You were already in so much pain, it couldn't hurt to see him suffer too. He was the reason why you were like this. Its his fault, all of it. He needed to carry that weight too, it took two to tango after all.   
You rise abruptly from your seat, Houtarou's head snapping up to look at you. You're trembling, soft sniffles coming from your nose, with your arm shielding your eyes from him. You're wiping your tears on your sleeve, your other hand gripping the bottom of your school blazer.

"I-its all your fault," you croak out. "You're the reason why I'm like this Oreki."

"I'm hopelessly in love with you and I'm dying because of it. You're only making it worse," and with that, you dash out of the cafe without letting him say anything.  
You're a sobbing mess as you run to the station. Your attempts to quiet yourself are fruitless, and you feel like you're dying as you cough and cry all at the same time. Well, you probably ARE dying. Its amazing that you've lived this long with the disease. You're propped up against a pillar on the train platform, waiting for it to arrive. Your knees are pulled into your chest, your chin resting on them, and you huddle into yourself as you wait. You sigh in relief as you hear the train approaching the platform, and on wobbly legs you pull yourself to the rest of the waiting population. No one looks at you, theres no judgement among the public, and mold in with the group as you enter the train.

-

Houtarou is shocked, to say the very least. He's frozen in his seat. This is his fault? You're the one who loves him? He guessed he should've seen the hints in your subtle affections, but it was his own fault for reciprocating them, even initiating his own. He slowly stood, leaving the pay on the table. He takes your uneaten pastry in his hand, and is light on his feet as he exits the place. It's only when Chitanda and Satoshi point out that he was crying. The two of them are looking at him awkwardly, and his hand touches his cheek and comes back wet. He really is crying. He makes no noises, he isn't shaking, but the tears are pouring out of his eyes. It must be the shock, the shame or whatever it is wracking his brain. 

His friend's question him, but he knew better than to waste time. He needed to get to you and sort this out. The two step aside as he pushes forward, and their eyes follow him with worry. 

-

You're in the bathroom. Petals have flooded the place, and your stomach is empty. Your throat is torn, and you're wheezing pitifully, but the periwinkle sweater Houtarou left clings to your form comfortably. When you had initially arrived home, you changed into warmer pajamas, and threw the sweater on to cry into. Unsuccessfully, however, your disease took charge and forced you onto your cold bathroom floor. You hated it, you hated this, but most of all you hated that couldn't hate him for doing this to you. It was really your own naive fault, but he shouldn't have been so easy to fall in love with, yet be so far out of reach. You felt pathetic, and you really probably were. Your body was fighting to stay alive as you expelled the flowers from your torso. The toilet water was tinted a reddish-pink, the petals coming out as buds. Soon they'd bloom entirely and it'd mark the end of the road for you. Lost in your self-torture, you failed to notice the person rushing into your bathroom, shoving the door open. You feel his hand on your shoulder, and the air that comes with him as he kneels to be next to you. Your eyes move to meet his. Yours are dark, lightless, red and blotchy. Its clear that you're suffering, the blood on your mouth, the way your soulless eyes look and the hair sticking to your wet face clue Houtarou in. What you didn't expect, however, is for the boy to be out of breath, red-faced, with equally red and tearful eyes. 

"You put yourself through all of this because of me?!" he yells, effectively startling you. You're staring at him, and he drops his head, both hands now on your shoulders.

"You let me watch you die, and for what? You're feelings aren't unrequited," he says that last part with emotion, but refuses to meet your gaze. He's shaking now, his finger digging into your shoulders somewhat painfully. 

You're at a loss for words. What? That doesn't make sense. You barely spoke in school, and it was only when you were suffering that he payed attention to you. Sure all those trips to the nurse's office meant something, and those after school visits to one another's house were something to be cherished, but you never thought you'd actually grow on him. Despite being his friend at the start, you still couldn't help but feel like another disposable mystery for him to figure out. You were stupid. Super, really positively stupid. An idiot.

"I'm sorry!" you blubber. It comes out a mess, but it was clear enough. Your esophagus has clearly been through enough. You repeat a mantra of "I'm sorry"s to him, and you collapse into him. His hands move to hold you, your apologies coming out in a hushed and strained manner. He tells you its okay, and that you'll be okay. The two of you lay there on the bathroom floor, a familiar occurrence you think. He's stroking your hair, and your head is pushed into his stomach as your own lays between his legs. He continues to pet you and whisper soft words of encouragement, and you calm at that. You shift a bit, moving up to look at him.

"I love you," you croak out.

"I know," he won't say he loves you back, but he certainly likes you. He wants you to be his, but love is a tough emotion for him to process.

"I like you too," he settles on.

He kisses your forehead, and you let him. He suggests you allow him to pick you up and carry you to your bed, and you oblige. He picks you up, with some struggle, but sets you down on your bed with ease. Houtarou leaves to get you water, and you cuddle up in your blankets like you had in the morning. They smell vaguely of him, and the scent of his sweater eases your breathing. He comes back with the water and a pain pill, and offers them to you. You take them in your hand, slowly sipping the water and wetting your throat before you swallow the pill. You finish with the items, and Houtarou sets the water cup aside. He puts himself beside you on your bed, wrapping his arm around you middle, and closes his eyes. Neither of you needed to speak to understand the feelings you had for one another, but Houtarou could only hope your disease would subside now that both of your feelings were known.


End file.
